Graveyard Slot - Michelle Schusterman (best ebook reader for laptop .txt) 📗

before we reached the pews. Her bright blue eyes were very serious. “When someone annoys you so much you want to scream, but you love him anyway because you can’t help it? That’s what it’s like having a brother. Just so you know.”

With that, she headed to the back of the church, leaving me feeling more guilty and frustrated than ever. I could see Oscar waiting by the entrance to the courtyard talking to Mi Jin. The rest of the cast was listening to Professor Guzmán prattle away excitedly near the altar. Inés and a few other students stood not far from them, and I couldn’t help noticing the way Inés kept shooting glares in Guzmán’s direction. Dad waved at me before slinging a cable coil over his shoulder.

“Ready to head down there, Kat?”

“Coming.” Adjusting my camera strap one more time, I took a deep breath. Time to get this fake séance over with.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN UGLY LITTLE LIARS

THE catacombs had been warm when we entered, but after a few minutes crammed with over a dozen people, the air was hot and stifling. The atmosphere was tense, too. Guzmán’s students sat around the table, whispering among themselves, while Inés glowered silently. Jess was filming Guzmán, who stood in front of one of the skull circles, talking cheerfully and holding up the fake journal. I started heading over to where Dad was talking to Lidia, but Mi Jin stopped me.

“Stand over there next to Oscar,” she said distractedly, adjusting the mic on top of her camera. “We don’t have enough footage of you two for this episode so far. I’m supposed to get some before we start.” She glanced up when I groaned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I stalked over to where Oscar was leaning against the wall, Mi Jin right behind me. Her camera’s red light flickered on, and every muscle in my body tensed.

“So, guys,” Mi Jin said brightly. “On the latest Graveyard Slot video, you tried contacting Brunilda, but ended up getting what looked like it might be the same message you got back in Salvador. A few minutes ago, Oscar filled me in on a pretty interesting theory.”

I closed my eyes. He’d already done it. Of course he had. The traitor.

“Yeah, I think Ana Arias followed us,” Oscar said shortly. He wasn’t using his usual cheesy reporter voice; he sounded angry. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Right, Kat?”

He stared at me pointedly. I focused on a spot above Mi Jin’s head, fists clenched at my sides. “Actually, no,” I said. “It’s not.”

Mi Jin smiled encouragingly. “Then why do you think you got the same message?”

“Because we faked it.”

Her eyebrow ring shot up, the smile vanishing from her face. “What?”

“Yeah, we faked it.” I turned to face Oscar, whose mouth was open. “Right?”

The red light went off. “Did you really?” Mi Jin asked softly, lowering her camera. Her disappointed expression was almost enough to make me tell the truth.

“No!” Oscar sputtered, still staring at me. “What are you doing? You said you saw Ana at the waterfall, and—”

I shrugged. “I lied. I made it all up, just like Guzmán did. Guess it’ll fit with the theme of this episode, huh?” With that, I walked over to where Roland leaned against the wall, watching everyone at the table. A few seconds later, Oscar appeared at my side.

“Why did you do that?” he said in a loud whisper. “They won’t use it on the show!”

I smiled humorlessly. “Aw, what a shame.”

Oscar’s eyes were bugging out. “Kat, did you just—are you seriously pretending you made up all that stuff about Ana just so you won’t be on TV for a few extra minutes?”

“I’m not pretending,” I said to my feet. “It was all a lie.”

Roland was looking at us curiously. “Ana?”

“Yup.” My voice rose a little. “I lied about seeing her. Sorry.”

I kept my eyes fixed on the floor, willing them to start the séance so I wouldn’t have to answer any more questions. I was a terrible liar, but it didn’t matter. No one could prove I hadn’t lied, and now they wouldn’t use any of the Ana stuff on TV. Take that, Oscar.

“Everyone, thank you so much for being here,” Guzmán said grandly, spreading his arms in a welcoming gesture. The hum of chatter died down. Jess and Mi Jin were slowly circling the table, their cameras trained on the professor. He seemed relaxed and happy, totally oblivious to the tense expressions and shifty glances going on around him. “The last year has been extraordinary, to say the least. When my students and I first gathered together down here to contact Brunilda, I never dreamed we’d get the results we have since received. Tonight, you will see—and record—proof that paranormal activity is real.”

I didn’t dare make eye contact with anyone else. I almost felt sorry for Professor Guzmán, who clearly had no idea the whole cast was onto his lies.

“We typically begin our séances with a reading from Brunilda’s journal,” Guzmán went on. “Ms. Bettencourt, seeing as the experience of possession is something you have in common with Brunilda, I was wondering if you might do the honors?”

He handed her a sheet of paper, which Lidia accepted with a tight smile. Jess knelt at her side for a close-up, while Mi Jin continued prowling the small room, filming everyone’s reactions as Lidia read.

“Today when I dipped my fingers into the holy water, it burned like acid. But though it felt as if my skin were melting off the bone, my hand was unblemished.”

I did my best to ignore Mi Jin’s camera and focus on my own. Who was the ghost I kept seeing through the viewfinder? I had to make her reveal her identity.

“My fellow sisters were watching, so I gritted my teeth and touched the water again, then anointed my face as they had done, thinking perhaps this would drive away the evil taking residence inside me.”

Maybe I should just dunk my camera